Live Man Talking
by bananacosmicgirl
Summary: Tonguing a guy was never the problem for Tony; tonguing a murderer was. Tag to 1x19 "Dead Man Talking". Gibbs/DiNozzo slash.
1. Part one

**Title: **Live Man Talking  
**Author: **Cosmic

**Email: **bananacosmicgirl at hotmail . com  
**Website:** www . cosmicuniverse . net  
**LiveJournal: **bananacosmic . livejournal . com

**Parts: **2  
**Words: **13 300  
**Rating: **PG-13  
**Genre:** Episode tag, angst  
**Characters: **Anthony DiNozzo, Leroy Jethro Gibbs, others  
**Pairings:** Gibbs/DiNozzo

**Warnings: **Slash

**Spoilers: **1x19 Dead Man Talking

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations from the TV-show NCIS, created and owned by David P. Bellisarius and CBS. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary:** Tonguing a guy was never the problem for Tony; tonguing a murderer was.

**Authors notes: **Tag to 1x19 Dead Man Talking. A really, really long tag, which starts off in beginning/mid episode. It wasnt supposed to be this long, but I started it and it just kind of grew. Enjoy.

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**Live Man Talking**

By Cosmic

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**Part one.**

Standing by his desk, watching as Gibbs opened its drawers in his search for clues, Tony was struck with how easily it could have been one of them. He was, of course, perfectly aware that it was a job where risking your life was a bi-monthly occurrence at least, but still—this time, an agent had actually died. It had been a while since the last time.

"Regs are to carry your weapon from portal to portal," Kate said when Gibbs found the gun. "Why'd he leave his here?"

"He was tailing somebody," Gibbs said. "Going from place to place. Didn't want to stop to identify himself, or risk setting off an alarm."

It was what, two weeks since Tony had had to do the same thing? "We've all done it. Especially with the heavy security these days."

Gibbs finished his hunt and said, "I'll go over his case files. You two check out his house."

"Tonight?"

Tony winced internally before Gibbs had even answered. Since the events with the terrorist in autopsy, Gibbs had been wound even tighter than he normally was.

"Yes, tonight," Gibbs snapped.

Kate's face fell. Tony felt a bit sorry for her – she hadn't been present on the previous occasions when they'd failed to solve a case and this time it was even worse because it was personal. Gibbs was like a slavering wolf on the hunt.

"I've just got to make a call," Kate said, rather softly.

She left, and Gibbs turned to Tony. "Is there anyone you need to call, DiNozzo?"

Tony couldn't bring himself to tell Gibbs to snap out of his horrid mood; it would serve no purpose, and instead it would only anger Gibbs further. Still, he looked down at Gibbs in silence, trying his best to convey his disappointment in Gibbs' behavior.

"No, boss," he said quietly. "No calls."

Tony left, glancing over his shoulder at Gibbs. The message seemed to have gone through; Gibbs' shoulders slumped just slightly as he exhaled and Tony knew he felt guilty. It made Tony feel guilty too – Gibbs was doing his job – but it was for the best of everyone. It would do no one any good if Kate handed in her resignation just because Gibbs couldn't keep his temper in check.

He grabbed his coat and, once Kate had finished her call to Dwayne the lover boy, she followed him to the garage and the car. Silence spread as they traveled to Pacci's house. Tony's thoughts ran a mile a minute as he wondered how people would react if he'd been the one shot dead. He was struck with a sudden wish to go home and clean his apartment, just in case it turned out that today was his day to die. He didn't want Kate and Gibbs to see his apartment in his current state of chaos. Then again, he reasoned, if he was dead, he wouldn't care.

He wondered if Gibbs would be angry with him for getting killed; he wondered if he would mourn Tony at all.

Glancing at Kate, he saw her staring out the window, a faraway look on her face.

"He doesn't mean it, you know," Tony said, breaking the silence for the first time since leaving headquarters.

"What do you mean?" Kate asked.

"Gibbs," Tony said. "He doesn't mean it when he's all moody. It's just—that terrorist. It was personal, and this is personal, and he doesn't deal with personal all that well."

"No kidding."

Still, she looked somewhat grateful for his explanation of Gibbs' worse-than-usual temper. She didn't thank Tony because they never thanked each other for anything, but they just knew, like brother and sister, that they were grateful that they had each other.

Pacci's house looked like he was going to come walking in through the door at any moment. Kate voiced this as they went through his home. "Don't you feel like you're…?"

"What?" Tony asked, looking around but forcing himself to separate this investigation of Pacci's things from the man he'd drunk beers with after work.

"I don't know," Kate said. "Like you're invading his privacy?"

The weight of the murder got to Tony, and he snapped, "Well, he's dead, Kate. With his guts slashed open I'd say Chris' privacy is about as invaded as it's gonna get."

It wasn't quite as bad as Gibbs' temper, but it was close, and Kate shut her mouth.

Then McGee called, and they were talking. Somehow, McGee had always been easy to talk to for Tony – there was so much potential for jokes and pranks and the Probie got all flustered so easily – and now that a coworker had died, McGee showed a good deal of compassion as he said, "Tony?"

"What?"

"I'm sorry," McGee said, and Tony could hear it in his voice; McGee truly was sorry, even though he hadn't known Pacci very well.

"Yeah, kid," Tony said, because he suddenly felt much older than his thirty-two years. "Aren't we all?"

Calling it a night only a few minutes later, after searching Pacci's home revealed nothing of interest, Tony dropped Kate off at NCIS so that she could get her own car, before he headed home.

As he entered his apartment, he wondered what others would see, had he been the one dead. His apartment wasn't nearly as filthy as Gibbs always suggested it was – and Gibbs knew that, seeing how he'd been in Tony's apartment on a handful occasions – but he still wondered what others would think of him. If he'd been killed and Kate or some other agent had gone through his home, would they have assumed him to be a slob? A lonely slob, with movies as his only point of interest?

Tony sighed. Although he didn't consider himself to be a slob, the other things his apartment said about him were more accurate. He was lonely even though, or perhaps because, he dated more than was probably healthy. His only real hobby was movies. Other than that, work was it for Anthony DiNozzo. He liked it that way, but still— work couldn't keep him warm at night.

Unless he bedded his boss, of course, but that seemed wholly unlikely, however much he may want it.

He made a quick sandwich from what little he had in his refrigerator, and sat down on the couch. He turned on his plasma, and unwound with the end of some movie he couldn't recall the title of, but it was one he'd seen before. Soon, all that was left of the sandwich was crumbs, and he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He was snoring away on the couch by the time the end credits rolled.

--

Abby and Gibbs had been at work for hours, it seemed, by the time Tony got there, even though he was early. Stretching and yawning, he lounged about Abby's office. Kate, who'd arrived just after him, looked like she hadn't gotten much sleep since he last saw her.

"Anything I can do to help?" Tony asked, leaning on Abby's desk.

"Only if you want to ruin this memory card," Abby replied, busily at work with cleaning the card. Gibbs had handed it to her minutes earlier, in an evidence bag, and it had been bloody and gooey.

"From Pacci," Gibbs had said by way of explanation.

"Done!" Abby exclaimed, and headed to her computer. She plugged the card in, and opened the folder it contained. There was a long list of .jpg files. Abby started flipping through them. "Obviously they're surveillance photos."

Pacci had been tailing a beautiful woman, and Tony bit back a comment about whether it had been for work or for pleasure. Obviously, since Pacci was currently in the morgue, it couldn't have been all for pleasure.

He did let out an, "Ooh, hottie!" though, to which Abby raised her eyebrow.

"Don't you think she's a little bit too old for you, Tony?"

Tony looked at the photo. "No, she's about my age."

Abby grinned. "That's exactly my point."

Tony turned and gave her a look, but she ignored him. As she went off, he again wondered what they all really thought of him – although he did prefer to date younger women, it wasn't all there was to him. He could appreciate an aesthetically appealing woman of almost any age. Well, up to a certain point anyway. Although, he had to admit, his interest tended to switch over to the other gender when it was to do with the older generation. He glanced at Gibbs, appreciative gaze going over the man. He bit back another, 'ooh, hottie!' – he was certain Gibbs wouldn't appreciate such a sentiment.

McGee came stumbling into the room in his usual, bumbling style. "Oh, sorry, sorry I'm five minutes late – I had to park in the visitor's lot and the guard—"

"Where is it, McGee?" Gibbs interrupted before McGee could get any further.

McGee was so new he practically squeaked – and in front of Gibbs, he was reduced to a puddle of rather useless goo. Opening the briefcase he was carrying turned out to be too big a challenge, and Gibbs grabbed it from him, annoyance emanating from every pore of his body. Tony wondered if it was time for another intervention – getting McGee to shake in his boots, or shoes as was the case here, was obviously fun, but still—

"Special Agent Pacci wanted that ASAP," McGee said shakily, nodding at the file.

"What is it?" Kate asked.

McGee seemed to find his voice, but Tony found something more interesting in McGee's suitcase – food. It was a supremely well-ordered suitcase, and the sandwich sitting in the corner looked like it had Tony's name on it.

"I didn't have breakfast this morning," Tony said, grabbing the sandwich. "You don't mind, do you?"

"No," McGee said, though it sounded like he did.

"Yes, Tony!" Abby said, stopping him by taking the sandwich. Tony took McGee's apple instead, while Abby returned the sandwich to its rightful owner with a smile. "Hi, McGee."

Tony glanced at McGee, and saw the ridiculously happy smile on his face as he mouthed 'hi' back to Abby while Gibbs talked about the case. Oh, that boy was so in love it was silly. Tony wondered briefly it he ever got that same look of bliss that McGee was currently wearing, when Gibbs was nice to him. He hoped not – it must be awfully easy for others to realize just how much he wanted Gibbs if that was the case.

"He the guy that died before they could file charges?" Tony asked, because he was, after all, listening to what Gibbs was saying. He'd be head smacked hard enough to get a concussion if he didn't. Besides, he remembered the case.

"Yep," Gibbs said. "The money was never found. Case went cold."

"Why was Pacci working it?" Kate asked.

"Found a lead on the money," Gibbs said, walking over to look more closely at the pretty woman on the screen. "It may be her. McGee!"

"Yes, boss?" McGee asked.

"I want you on this," Gibbs said. "I'm going to get you a TAD here. DiNozzo, you take McGee with you. You find out who she is and where she is."

Still chewing on the apple – it was a very good apple – Tony turned. He knew better than to delay following Gibbs orders. "Let's go, hotshot."

Tony heard Abby ask, "You need a place to stay?" and McGee's stammered response. He smiled to himself – it was almost too easy. Feeling rather like Gibbs, he walked back in.

"McGee!" he barked, and pointed to the door.

"Coming," McGee said, following him.

He had his gaze down, almost as if he was afraid to look at Tony. After all, Tony was the big, bad Senior Field Agent. It made Tony feel fantastic, and it made him hope that McGee would be around some more, so that Tony could feel that way more often. Still, he hoped that this wasn't the way Gibbs felt when Tony was around – if it was, then they'd certainly never move in any direction near where Tony wanted them to go. Not that they would anyway, for a wide selection of reasons, but—

"You can take that desk," Tony said, pointing to the unused desk in their space of the bullpen.

"Uh, okay," McGee said, and sat down.

They worked in silence. Tony went through all of Pacci's notes and searched for the woman in the pictures, without much luck. Eventually, he came over to stand by McGee's desk instead, to see what the Probie could come up with.

"Do you have to stand there?" McGee asked, glancing nervously at Tony.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," Tony said. "Now get on with it."

"It's not like I can just Google her address," McGee said, fingers working furiously on the keyboard. "We don't have her name."

"I know that, Probster," Tony said. "So get a-crackin'."

McGee glared at him.

Tony watched silently for a few minutes. The Probie was impressive with computers, but that was nothing new – Tony had figured out that much the first time they'd worked together. MIT – now there was a place Tony would never set foot. McGee was obviously as smart as he was nervous.

It wasn't showing at the moment though and Tony began drumming his fingers with impatience.

"McGee, it's not like you. What's taking so long?" he finally snapped.

"I've almost got it," McGee said.

Tony smiled to himself, a small but diabolical plan entering his mind. After all, he was curious, and neither McGee nor Abby would ever spill it.

"You know," he said innocently, "the quicker you get this done, the more quality time you have to spend with a certain tattooed forensic technician of the Goth persuasion."

McGee stopped typing and looked at Tony. "What do you mean by that?"

"Oh, come on!" Tony said, chuckling and playing his part perfectly. "Abby told me you closed the deal under some pretty hinky circumstances."

McGee's eyes widened. "She told you that? Well, the hinky thing of it – did she tell you that that was her idea? Because—"

Tony held up a hand – that was more information than he needed to know. All he had wanted to know was whether they'd had sex or not, and obviously they had. He did not want to know what kind of sex the geeks had – Abby was like his little sister! But he smiled, because he'd gotten what he wanted.

McGee's face fell. "Abby didn't tell you anything, did she?"

Tony smiled. "A well-trained NCIS Special Agent is good at extracting information. You'll learn. Focus."

McGee sighed and returned his attention to the computer, and a moment later, it beeped.

"I have her address," McGee said, leaning back proudly.

"You do?" Tony frowned. "How?"

"Look," McGee said, and put the stuff on his screen up on the big screen, so that Tony could see. "Since evidently this is her residence, I used the process of elimination. Quercus Virginia."

He had zoomed in on a tree, and with a raised eyebrow, Tony asked, "Excuse me?"

"That's a variety of oak tree," McGee said.

Tony frowned deeper. "How can you tell? It doesn't have any leaves on it."

"I identified the bark," McGee said.

"Of course you did." He snorted. It seemed so perfectly in character for the McGeek to do such a thing.

McGee went off on a tirade about how he came up with her address. Tony had to admit – what McGee lacked in looks and personality, he made up for in smarts. He couldn't have done what McGee just did if he had a week to do it.

Still, when done, he said, "Okay, I'll take it from here, McGee. You look like you could use some coffee."

"Not really," McGee protested.

"I'll take mine with three sugars and a hazelnut," Tony said, and McGee was smart enough to take the hint.

It was only a minute later that the elevator door dinged, and Gibbs came in, Kate in tow.

"How'd it go?" he asked – they'd been off interviewing Lieutenant Commander Voss' C.O.

"Tell me you have her name, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Any second, boss," Tony said. "I've got an address – I'm running it through the search engines."

Kate looked impressed. "How'd you find it?"

"Process of elimination, actually," Tony said. It wasn't necessarily a lie, it just hadn't been his process. "Here it is. Amanda Reed."

Gibbs stood and began walking out of the bullpen. To Kate, he said, "Background her. Deep as you can go." Kate nodded. "Come on, Tony."

Tony stood hurriedly, and as McGee came around the corner, coffee cup in hand, he had a sinking feeling. He knew, a moment before Gibbs said it, what was coming.

"McGee, good work on the address."

Tony made a face, and Kate looked smug, as though it was suddenly obvious that it couldn't have been Tony who'd found the address.

"Oh, thank you boss," McGee said, and then he stood silent and watched as Gibbs turned on his heel and dumped the coffee cup – with Tony's coffee – he'd just taken from McGee in the trash can. He was still scowling from the taste of the sweet stuff Tony preferred. A grimace later, Tony hurried after Gibbs, getting into the elevator just before the doors closed. He heard Kate's laughter even as they began descending.

"How do you always know?" Tony asked, before he could stop himself. He winced immediately, knowing such a question wasn't really allowed – especially not when Gibbs was in the pissy mood that he'd been in since the terrorist.

Gibbs, however, looked more amused than angry, although he didn't look at Tony. "I always know, DiNozzo."

"Yeah, but—" Tony said.

"You're not here because you know one kind of oak tree from another," Gibbs said.

They arrived in the garage and Gibbs strode out. Tony hurried after him, unsure of what to make of Gibbs' words.

"So McGee—that's why he's here?"

"Among other things," Gibbs said.

They seated themselves in the car.

"So why am I here?" Tony asked, despite not being sure that he wanted to know the answer.

He didn't get one; Gibbs merely smiled slightly, and drove.

Tony disliked Gibbs' breakneck driving, but he would always enjoy being on his own with the man. He made sure he wasn't caught staring at Gibbs, though, because although he didn't seem to be in as bad a mood now as he had been the night before, Gibbs would never be a 'the glass is half full' kind of guy, and catching Tony gawking at him like a teenager in love was definitely on the list of things that'd get him angry.

The car ride wasn't very long and they found the street they were looking for without much trouble. Tony recognized the lamp and the tree McGee had pointed out, although he had long since forgotten what kind of oak tree it was. It didn't matter.

"That's her address," Tony said, pointing at the 215 number on the mailbox.

"I can see that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Yeah," Tony said. "I know. I just—well, you know, your eyes."

Gibbs ought to wear glasses, though no one would dare to tell him so.

Tony's cell phone rang, and he found Kate on the other end. Once finished, he turned to Gibbs. "Well, Kate can't find any criminal record. In fact, Amanda Reed sounds like an upstanding citizen. Single, real clean TRW. She just bought this townhouse. Paid cash. No mortgage. She recently was accepted to the Potomac Country Club as a member."

"I'm impressed," Gibbs said, though he didn't sound it.

"Do you want me to do the interview?" Tony asked, perhaps sounding a bit too enthusiastic.

"No," Gibbs said.

"I can work her, boss," Tony said.

Gibbs tone told him it wasn't a negotiable answer. "Chris was keeping his distance for a reason. Until we find out why, we do the same."

"Why?" Tony asked. He couldn't see what would be wrong with questioning her. By the looks of it, she was innocent, and perhaps she had information. But Gibbs, who was looking around the street, didn't answer him.

"This photograph was taken form up there," he said, looking at a window that said 'For Rent'. He headed towards the man sweeping the sidewalk just outside the building. Tony followed dutifully. "Excuse me, are you the building manager?"

"No," the man said sarcastically. "I've got a thing for sweeping sidewalks."

Gibbs' grin was really a pretty thing, even though this one was brief. Something landed on his jacket, and Tony brushed it off without thinking. Gibbs turned to him, and gave him a look – and Tony realized what he was doing. Touching Gibbs wasn't really allowed. Ever.

The manager was looking at them funny. "Are you guys—together?"

Tony's gut twisted, quickly schooling away the 'caught' look on his face, and then biting back his immediate retort – 'I wish'. Gibbs looked at him and there was a small smile on his lips that Tony couldn't decipher; it spoke of amusement, but was kinder than that, and more secretive. As though he knew something Tony didn't – which was, of course, perfectly possible. Gibbs always seemed to know stuff Tony didn't.

Tony forced a laugh, breaking the moment. "No, it's not what you think."

Gibbs showed his badge. "NCIS."

Tony lost himself in the way the light played in Gibbs' silver hair. The smile from a moment before played before his eyes, with the manager's words – 'are you guys—together?' until it just became 'together, together, together' – and he wondered what it all meant. He forced himself to look away, to check out the area around them.

"We're going to pick up where Chris left off," Gibbs said and Tony was brought back to the present. "Stakeout time."

Tony couldn't help but grin and exclaim, "Yes!"

He followed Gibbs inside, where it took less than five minutes to set up the renting deal for the coming week with the manager. Tony hung back, and they returned to the car once the deal was finished.

"Stakeout, stakeout, stakeout!" Tony sang happily.

Gibbs gave him a look, shaking his head.

Tony pretended not to notice. "You know, stakeouts are half the reason why I became a cop. It just seemed so—great, you know? To wait for the action, to get to watch people and they don't know it, and then—bang! They don't ever know what hit them."

Gibbs drove, and Tony wasn't certain he was listening at all. Then again, he hadn't been head slapped yet so perhaps Gibbs was in a fairly good mood.

"What's the other half?" Gibbs asked.

"Other half?" Tony asked, rather shocked that Gibbs was actually engaging in conversation.

"Of why you became a cop," Gibbs said.

"Oh," Tony said, and then he grinned widely. "I get to carry a gun."

Another amused smile found its way onto Gibbs' lips. Tony watched him for a few seconds, drinking in the sight and memorizing it, because he feared there wouldn't be all that many smiles until the terrorist had been caught. He'd get this memory out on late evenings and early mornings, when Gibbs was slapping him and growling at the world in general.

He leaned back into his seat and was quiet the rest of the way back to headquarters, while Gibbs called McGee and asked him to get the necessary equipment.

Once there, he plopped down in front of his computer – there was some work to be done before hitting the stakeout. Kate and McGee didn't seem as thrilled about the prospect of a stakeout as he was.

"Would you be as excited if the mark was a three hundred pound bald guy?" Kate asked.

He would, but that wouldn't fit with the general image she had of him, so Tony said, "Nope." Although Amanda Reed was undoubtedly a hottie, Tony would always love stakeouts for being stakeouts. They could drag on and get very boring, but enough time had passed since the last time, and Tony would look forward to any kind.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, in askance about the case.

"A connect," Tony said, rather triumphantly, "between the dead Commander Voss and Amanda Reed. I ran a title search on the townhouse she just bought. It's too much to be a coincidence."

When he didn't immediately continue, Gibbs gave him a look. Tony ignored what that look did to him, even when it was filled with annoyance.

"Are you going to spit it out, or do I have to waste my coffee on your head?" Gibbs asked.

Tony told him of the house's connection between the Voss family and Amanda Reed. Gibbs nodded, pleased enough, and told them that Tony would be doing stakeout with McGee. Kate voiced her concerns – not an unexpected move, considering Kate took every opportunity to point out just what an immature, spoiled brat Tony was. Tony had to admit, he played the part well.

He did wish, though, that Gibbs didn't sound so much like Tony was a chore, when he said, "You want to be stuck in a cramped apartment with DiNozzo? Be my guest."

Tony knew that he was getting paired up with McGee because Tony was the Senior Field Agent. Gibbs couldn't pair up with Tony, because that would leave the two newest members of the team together. At least that was what he told himself.

"You ever been on a stakeout before, McGee?" he asked, directing his thoughts back to the squad room. He placed his hands on McGee's shoulder. McGee looked rather confused.

"No," McGee said, looking happy about the prospect. "But I'm looking forward to the experience."

Kate passed on her way out. "Behave yourself."

It was definitely directed to Tony, who laughed and slapped McGee's shoulder. This would be fun.

"Uh," said McGee. "Can I go back to my desk now?"

Tony, hands still on McGee's shoulders, pretended to ponder the question for a second before releasing him. McGee scurried back to his computer, looking a bit worried.

"Oh, Probster," Tony said, sauntering back to his desk. "This'll be great."

"You know, we are still looking for a murderer," McGee said.

Tony made a face at him. How could he forget? Pacci's desk was right over there, and it was empty. Was Tony's act of an uncaring brat so convincing they actually thought he didn't know what they were doing?

"What makes you think I've forgotten?" Tony asked.

"You—uh," said McGee. "You seem—I mean, you're so excited."

"I like stakeouts," Tony said. "Maybe one day, when you've grown up to be a real field agent, you'll like them too."

He probably sounded a little harsher than he meant to.

His phone rang, saving McGee from further conversation. It was the real estate agent who'd sold the property to Amanda Reed; she agreed to meet him half an hour later in her office.

"Meet you back here at eighteen hundred," he said to McGee, as he grabbed his jacket and headed out.

The real estate agent, Pat Stone, had some information that added to the puzzle. Tony took notes and thanked her with a smile once they were done.

He headed out again, grabbing a coffee from Starbucks on his way back to the office. It'd be another three hours before their stakeout started. He still had some research to do on Reed's past but there was enough time for him to enjoy the nice, rather warm weather and the sun on his face.

As his thoughts drifted, they soon landed on the case. Pacci. Death. It was the first agent Tony had known who'd died on the job since he started working at NCIS. There had been a colleague in Baltimore, but they hadn't worked close and Tony had only known him by his last name and a few rumors. Tony had been a rookie back then, not yet quite included in the gang.

Although they dealt with death on a weekly basis in this job, it still didn't hit him just how easily his own life – or someone else on the team – could be extinguished, until a fellow agent died. Now he wondered what it would be like if anyone on the team died. If Abby got poisoned, McGee got stabbed, or Kate got shot – or even worse, if anything happened to Gibbs.

He swallowed, the coffee tasting bitterer now than it had a moment ago.

Tony was, if not fine, then at least semi-okay, with the idea of his own death. After all, if he died, then he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath, or anything else for that matter. But if someone else died – if Gibbs died—

He didn't want to think about it but now that the idea had entered his head, images flipped through his brain at an alarming rate – knives, guns, bombs, even bio attacks, all plunged, fired and exploded into and around the team, into and around Gibbs.

He forced himself out of his thoughts. He'd returned to his car, but when he opened his eyes – he hadn't realized he'd shut them tightly – he was sitting there, gripping the wheel hard, the key in the ignition but not turned on.

God.

Drawing a shuddering breath, he pushed the thoughts away and focused on getting back to headquarters. Once back, in the elevator, he took several deep breaths to calm himself. It wouldn't do to show up in front of McGee all white-faced and sweaty – and all because of some thoughts.

He nodded to McGee as he returned, but didn't trust his voice enough to say anything. Instead, he sat down by his computer and continued his background check on Reed.

They stopped to pick up dinner on the way, and then they headed to the apartment where Gibbs and Kate were holed up.

"Miss me?" Tony asked as soon as Kate opened the door, and she gave him a look that told him clearly that she hadn't. Sometimes, Tony couldn't help but wonder if Kate even liked him. He had no doubt she'd give her life for him if they were in danger, but a sense of duty did not necessarily translate to liking.

He was flooded with relief upon seeing Gibbs, even though the stakeout was nothing dangerous and they'd seen each other only hours earlier. The creative images of him dying was still affecting Tony, and he plastered on a grin and joking attitude to hide behind.

After updating Gibbs and Kate on what they'd found out about Reed's background, Kate concluded, "Well, they knew each other."

"Sounds like more than knew to me," Gibbs said.

Tony smiled. "Good work, huh, boss?"

Gibbs ignored him, as usual. He wouldn't be Gibbs if he didn't, but Tony still thought it would have been nice to get a 'good job' a tad more often than he did. Abby got it on a daily basis, and Kate and McGee both seemed to get it more often than Tony. Perhaps Gibbs really did think Tony was a chore after all.

"Tomorrow's garbage day," Gibbs said instead. "I'm sure she'll take her trash out tonight. Go through it."

"Right," Tony said, none too eagerly.

Kate harped on about the bathroom, and he wondered what she thought he'd do to it during the night. He had to wind her up about it a bit – it was just too easy – and she left in a huff. Gibbs left while they were at it and Tony glanced briefly after him, before returning his attention to Kate, and then McGee.

"We've gotta go there," Tony said to McGee about pulling a prank on Kate. "Any ideas, McGee?"

"No!" McGee said.

"Well, don't worry," Tony said. "I've got plenty."

He did – and he was having a lot more fun imagining Kate's horrified response to each of the pranks, than he'd had with the previous subject of his imagination.

"You realize that any prank we pull on Kate, we'll also be pulling on Gibbs?" McGee asked.

Tony frowned. "That's a problem."

And then, McGee showed himself to be the genius he claimed to be by suggesting, "Well, I was thinking, since she's expecting something, maybe we should do nothing."

When Tony told him he was brilliant, and that he was all right, McGee shone rather like the sun with pride. Kate could protest all she wanted, but McGee did look up to Tony.

Still, after they'd finished their dinners, Tony slapped McGee on the back.

"She just took the trash out," he said. "Go down and get it, McNerd."

"But Gibbs said—why not you?" McGee asked.

"Because I'm the Senior Field Agent and I just told you to do it," Tony said. He gave McGee a look, and though McGee frowned and sighed, he did leave. Tony smiled to himself. He could really get used to having a Probie around. It was refreshing to boss someone around, instead of just being bossed around and lusting after the boss in question. He certainly hoped Probie wasn't doing any lusting.

McGee returned, wearing gloves and holding the trash at arm's length. Tony spread out a sheet on the floor, and they spread out the junk. It smelled, and McGee wrinkled his nose.

"You know, if you think this is gross, you'll never be able to deal with this job," Tony said.

"I lived through a half-melted body," McGee said.

"More like puked through," Tony said, remembering the case when he'd first met McGee. "You were so green. Kinda like now."

"It's trash, Tony," McGee said.

"It might be clues," Tony said.

"Yeah? An old banana, newspapers, hair spray, left over mango, and L'Oreal's Q10 cream – that's clues?" McGee said, holding up the near-black banana with two fingers.

"Might be," Tony said.

They looked through the trash, but there was nothing there that pointed them towards Voss. Amanda Reed's trash did not suggest her having any relationship with a man at all.

They slept in shifts, but the night gave little by way of case progress. Amanda went to bed in a rather skimpy nightgown, and Tony watched appreciatively before she headed into the bedroom, which had no windows out towards the street. Tony kept watch until two thirty a.m., but Amanda didn't get up except to get a glass of milk, and then McGee took over. He had nothing to report, come morning; Amanda had not yet gotten up by the time Tony awoke at six thirty.

"Anything new?" he asked, stretching and heading towards the window.

McGee looked like he could have used several more hours of sleep. "Uh, no. She's not up yet."

"Well, then," Tony said. "Want some coffee?"

"Sure," McGee said.

"Good," Tony said. "Go get some for us."

McGee glared at him, but left. There was a Starbucks less than two minutes away, so he wouldn't be gone for long. Tony listened for any signs of Amanda getting out of bed, but she seemed to enjoy sleeping in. Tony couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in.

Eventually, after McGee had returned and they'd both finished their coffees and the bagels McGee had bought, Amanda woke. Tony turned on the camera as she came out of the bedroom, and listened in as she hummed to herself while making coffee. A shower later, and she was on the phone with the Historical Committee, talking about painting her door while getting dressed. She really had a lovely body.

"Are you finished yet?" Tony asked McGee, who'd gone over the trash again, just in case they'd missed something the night before.

"Yeah," McGee said. "And all I've learned is she loves bananas and mangoes. Also uses every beauty product sold on cable TV."

"Maybe she's older than she looks," Tony said, frowning.

"I don't know," McGee said. "Thirties?"

Tony sighed, and stood. Heading back to the camera, he discovered that Amanda had exited her apartment and looked like she was going to be futzing with her plants. Making a split second decision, he stood and headed out the door.

"Oh, yeah," he said to McGee. "I need some fresh air."

He was out the door before McGee knew what was happening. He smiled to himself as he skipped down the stairs – he was going undercover! Stakeouts were fun, but undercover was even better – especially when the target in question was a hot woman.

"Hi," he said, once he'd crossed the street.

She barely glanced at him. "Hi."

"Those are some nice flowers," he said. McGee would probably know what kind of flowers Amanda was planting, but Tony had never needed such knowledge to get a girl to chat with him.

"Thanks," she said, still obviously unimpressed.

"You know, this is a great place to live," he said. "I live down on Canal and I just—I've been trying to paint my door. And the Historical Society has given me nothing but grief."

At this, Amanda looked up. Tony knew then that she had her hooked – after all, she'd been annoyed about it earlier, and bonding over something they both found annoying would be easy.

"I know," she said. "I just got off the phone with them. I just want to paint my door and my trim, and they're making it virtually impossible."

"Total nonsense," Tony said, and he wondered if he was pushing it too far, using her words.

But she seemed to like having someone agreeing with her. "You know, those were my exact words." She paused, looking at him. "Hi, I'm Amanda."

He took her hand. She had a strong grip, and he smiled. Coming up with a name quickly, he said, "Hi. I'm Stringfellow."

It was an easy name to remember, and it would probably make her laugh. It did. "You're kidding, right?"

Chatting with her came easy, as easy as it always did for Tony. Getting girls – women – into bed had never been hard for him, and he was currently two cocktails and perhaps a dinner away from bedding this one. Of course, Gibbs would have his head if he got involved – he'd likely have his head already, for not sticking to his orders. 'Keep our distance' wasn't really an order that was open for interpretation.

Wrapping their conversation up, he said, "Well, it's been nice chatting with you."

She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "You too, Stringfellow."

He gave her a grin, one of those he knew women had a hard time resisting, and with a wave, he left. As he returned, making sure she didn't watch as he entered the door to the building housing the stakeout apartment, he wondered why Gibbs had to be so completely immune to his smile. It was unfair. Then again, if Gibbs had fallen all over himself because Tony smiled at him, Tony wouldn't be here now. He wanted Gibbs because he was Gibbs.

"Did you have to do that?" McGee asked as soon as he came into the apartment.

"Relax, Probie," Tony said, shrugging off McGee's annoyance. "No harm, no foul."

"If Gibbs finds out—"

"Then Gibbs doesn't find out, I guess," Tony said. "Breathe, McGeek. Oxygen is good for you."

McGee glared darkly at him, but didn't say anything else.

--

_**Author's notes:** Part two will be up tomorrow. I hope you enjoyed it. Feedback is like candy - absolutely lovely :)_


	2. Part two

**Part two.**

When Gibbs and Kate entered a half hour later, Tony was sitting by the camera, checking out Amanda through the lens, and McGee was by the computer.

"Did anything happen?" Gibbs asked.

"Nope!" McGee said, too quickly. "Not a thing, boss."

Tony barely kept from rolling his eyes. Though he knew it was probably already over, he said, "Very quiet."

"Very," McGee agreed immediately.

Gibbs zoomed in on McGee. "Is that why you seem so anxious, Special Agent McGee?"

"Me?" McGee squeaked.

Kate frowned at Tony. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Tony said.

"This place looks too clean." Before she had time to go off on a tirade about what Tony might or might not have done, her phone rang. She excused herself and stepped away.

"Where is she now?" Gibbs asked.

"Uh—in the back of the house," Tony said. "In the kitchen."

Gibbs leaned over a very uncomfortable looking McGee. "Did you check her trash?"

"Ah, yes, boss," McGee said. "And nothing unusual."

"Have it sent to Abby for prints," Gibbs said.

"Yes, boss," McGee said.

Tony entertained himself by turning the audio surveillance towards Kate instead. Her private conversation with lover boy Dwayne was recorded – until she turned and discovered him, at which point she quickly ended the call.

"DiNozzo!" she snapped, thoroughly annoyed.

Tony smiled at her. "Sounds like Dwayne's in love."

Kate looked at Gibbs. "Permission to shoot him?"

"Mm-hmm," Gibbs said, as though it was perfectly fine. Of course, it was – Kate had asked to be allowed to shoot him on at least two other occasions that he could remember right off the bat. Again, he wondered if she even liked him.

Abby called, telling them that whoever died in the fire wasn't Voss.

"He's alive with all those millions," McGee said.

"Living la dolce vita," Tony said dreamily. "Lucky bastard."

"Not for long," Gibbs growled. "Kate, you're with me."

"Where are we going, Gibbs?"

"Geo-tech Lab," Gibbs said. "Tony, you stay put."

The tone suggested that Gibbs knew perfectly well that Tony hadn't followed his orders about not talking to Amanda. For the thousandth time, Tony wondered how Gibbs always knew.

"But boss, I just—"

"This is not a debate, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "You stay here. You do not contact her."

Tony nearly pouted at Gibbs, even though that had never worked. He knew he could get Amanda to talk if he just got to spend some time alone with her. And besides, considering he was never going to bed Gibbs, he might as well enjoy himself with the eye-candy right in front of him.

Gibbs gave him a measuring look, daring him to defy him. Tony sighed, signaling defeat, and Gibbs gave a short nod. Kate trailed after him as he walked out.

McGee looked at Tony with something like fearful wonder.

"What, McGoo?" he asked, a bit snappish. "Not all of us become idiots when the boss is around."

"I don't—uh," McGee said.

Tony turned back to the camera, moodily ignoring McGee. McGee seemed happier for it; he turned back to the computer and whatever it was he entertained himself with there.

In his mind's eye, death flashed before Tony again. He knew that Gibbs' order was only to keep him safe and sound. Voss had brutally murdered Pacci when he was keeping track of Amanda and it was, unfortunately, all too likely that the same thing could happen to him if Voss was around and he realized that Tony was a federal agent.

Still, Tony hadn't chosen this job because he wanted to be safe. If he had wanted safety, he would have been much better off staying in his father's company.

He and McGee barely talked for the next hour. Amanda stayed inside, reading the newspaper and eating. By the looks of the magazines, she enjoyed gardening, interior design and fashion.

By the time McGee broke the silence with his question on where he got the name 'Stringfellow' from, Tony's mood had bettered. He had pushed the thoughts of death, Gibbs, and his father's wishes for him out of his mind. Conversing with McGee was fun, especially when this one quickly turned into him taunting McGee for his writing.

"I never should have told you," McGee muttered.

Tony protested. "No, no, no! No, no – it's good! That's good stuff. We're bonding. Hey, uh—where do you get your ideas?"

McGee sound completely convinced that it was a good idea to tell Tony. "Well, uh, cases like this one. Guy steals millions of dollars, makes it look like he's dead, has his girlfriend buy the old family home."

Tony frowned. He had never attempted to write in his life – it had never been of interest to him. Books were just not as fun as movies. "Hmm. Isn't that plagiarism?"

McGee looked like he had never thought about it that way. "I—I don't think so."

Tony shrugged, and turned back to the camera. Just then, the mail man arrived, placing a package on the top of Amanda's mail box.

"I'd love to see the return address," he said. "I'm going to get a look at that package."

Gibbs' rules be damned – that package might have something of importance.

McGee didn't seem to think it was a good idea. As Tony brushed past him on his way out, he heard McGee's protest. "No, no! Tony, I don't think that's a good idea. Tony!"

Tony flew down the stairs, out the door and crossed the street with a few long strides. With another three steps, he'd reached the package, and grabbed it. 'Miss Amanda Reed, 215 40th street, Georgetown, DE 19947' it said, and below that, 'Products That Defy The Aging Process'.

Anti-aging cream, Tony concluded with a frown. That really wasn't helpful. He was glaring at the package, wishing for x-ray vision and wondering if it was really beauty products inside, when the door opened and Amanda stood looking at him, eyebrows raised in question.

His heart raced, his mind working best it could to come up with some plausible explanation for him being there, holding her mail in his hands.

"Hey," he said.

"Stringfellow," she said, still frowning.

Tony laughed nervously. "You remembered my name."

"How could I forget it?" Amanda said. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, well," Tony said. "I could—I could say that I'm your new mailman."

He only barely managed to avoid wincing at his own words. It was such a lousy explanation.

"Which I wouldn't believe," Amanda said.

Tony forced himself to be calm and simply use the charm that he'd used on so many women – and a few men – before her. "All right. How about, uh, I just wanted to see you again."

He held out the package to her and she took it. He could feel her gauging him and he smiled slightly, encouragingly, at her. She chuckled at his look.

"Do you like espresso?" she asked finally, and he knew he was in.

"Oh yeah," he said. "I love espresso."

She invited him in and he followed. Her place was clean, spacious, and there was a moving box in the corner that suggested that she hadn't lived there all that long.

She headed straight to the kitchen and he gave the place a once over – he wasn't the least bit interested in interior design, but since he knew she was, it was a good topic to start with.

"Single or double?" she asked.

"Single," he said. "I like it strong."

"Same here," she said, and the way she spoke hinted that she wasn't just talking about the coffee.

The coffee machine whizzed to life and a minute later, Amanda handed him a cup of coffee. She smiled coyly at him.

"Smells great," he said, allowing their hands to brush just a little.

She made a cup for herself and sipped it slowly.

Although they began talking with ease, starting on interior design as he'd planned and continued onto colleges and sports – she was surprisingly knowledgeable about sports for a woman, at least compared to the women he usually hooked up with – Gibbs' face flashed before him a few times. He'd get head smacked for real this time for not following Gibbs' orders.

Glancing at his watch, he realized that an hour had passed by the time she asked him if he wanted to go to Paddy's Pub with her.

"Great," she said when he agreed. "Let me go change into something else, Stringfellow."

"Okay," Tony said, smiling. "I'm going to wait outside."

She smiled and walked seductively away from him. He watched her for a second before hurrying out. Once outside, he hurried across the street to the apartment and McGee.

"Did you get that? Paddy's Pub," he said excitedly. McGee didn't look nearly as excited – in fact, he looked pissed off. He held up the phone. Tony winced, already knowing, and whispered, "Gibbs?"

McGee nodded. "Yeah."

Tony grimaced. "They're watching me?"

McGee nodded again.

Tony took the phone and tried to sound as casual as possible. "Hey, boss."

"DiNozzo, what the hell are you doing?" Gibbs asked.

"I had an opening," Tony said. "It was a clear field. I had to go for it."

It sounded rather lame even to his own ears – but Gibbs surprised him. "Good."

"Good?" Tony echoed disbelievingly.

"Yeah," Gibbs said. "Good, Tony. You're the bait, okay? Voss is out there somewhere, watching you like he watched Chris."

Tony was suddenly not quite as keen on going on a date with Amanda, as images of Pacci's gutted body flowed through his mind. "Like he watched Chris."

"Enjoy your date," Gibbs said, as though he didn't quite care that Tony might be next on Voss' hit list. But then he added, "And stay out of elevators."

A smile ghosted over Tony's lips. That was as much of a 'take care of yourself' as he would get from Gibbs – and it was enough.

"Okay, cover my back," Tony said to McGee.

"Got it," McGee said, and Tony was about to leave when he said, "Tony! Uh, how do I—how do I take the safety off?"

He held up his gun.

"You take—" Tony started, and then realized that McGee was kidding with him, grin wide.

Tony glared at him and hurried out. McGee would be following him at a safe distance.

A few minutes passed before Amanda opened the door. She looked stunning in a turquoise dress, her red hair spilling down over her shoulders. Tony thought for a second that Amanda could run for the spot as Gibbs' next ex-wife.

"You look great," Tony said. "Really."

"Thank you," Amanda said. "You don't look so bad yourself. Shall we?"

"Definitely," Tony said.

Amanda led the way to the pub. It was a dark and dingy pub, a hole in the wall off the street with an old, worn sign.

They ordered food – Tony realized how hungry he was; it had been hours since they ate lunch. Amanda seemed hungry enough too and unlike most women he knew, she wasn't picky about eating French fries. She looked deep into his eyes, her gaze smoldering, and told him he had beautiful eyes.

Tony's phone rang and he glanced at it. Gibbs.

"It's my boss," he said.

He wanted to answer, but answering in front of her would mean running the risk of her hearing what Gibbs had to say.

"Work hours are over," she said. "It's time to play."

"Yeah," he said, "but I've got to take this because I've—got to take the call—from my boss." She placed her finger on his lips and he smiled slightly. Gibbs would certainly not understand this, but Tony would deal with the consequences later. "I—can always call him back later."

Her lips were suddenly against his, warm and soft, hot and wanting. He wrapped his arms around her – he might as well enjoy this when he had the chance.

The food arrived, and Amanda pulled back. "I'm going to go wash my hands before we eat. I'll be right back."

She kissed him again, pressing her body against him.

"Okay," Tony said.

"Don't leave," she said coyly.

"Okay." He watched her ass as she walked away and then turned to McGee, who was sitting in the bar, and he grinned madly. McGee didn't seem as thrilled.

He flipped open his cell phone, calling Gibbs.

"Why didn't you answer the phone?" Gibbs snapped, obviously annoyed.

"I couldn't," Tony said, lying but not really. He hadn't been able to answer the phone with her looking at him like that.

"Where's Amanda?" Gibbs asked.

"Ladies room."

"Swell," Gibbs said sarcastically. "We can add that misdemeanor to the murder charges."

"What?" Tony asked, and it felt like someone had started pouring cold water over his head.

"Amanda is Lieutenant Commander Voss, DiNozzo."

Tony chuckled – Gibbs must be joking with him. Never mind that Gibbs never joked. Not like this. "Stop it. Come on."

"She's a he, bonehead," Gibbs said. "And if he's packing a three fifty-seven and a knife in his purse, he killed Chris."

The pouring of cold water had become an ice bucket dumped on his head. He was unable to form words. He ran the back of his hand over his lips, suddenly nauseous. He had just tongued Pacci's murderer. Her lovely smile was really not a woman's lovely smile at all, but the mad grin of a murdering transvestite.

He stared at her as she returned. "Oh, I'm famished." She took a bite of her food, but stopped to look at him, when he didn't stop staring at her. "Aren't you hungry?"

"I lost my appetite," Tony said.

"Hmm," Voss said, playing coy once more. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know where to begin," Tony said, and he really didn't. There were so many things wrong with this picture that he couldn't begin to list them all.

"Is this the same man I left sitting here a few minutes ago?" she asked, sounding a slight bit miffed.

"I don't know," Tony said, around the bile building in his throat. He wanted to go to the bathroom and wash his mouth free of all traces of her – him. "Are you the same woman?"

Voss leaned in, and Tony fought the urge to run. "Oh, yes. I—"

Voss ran a hand over his leg.

"Open your purse," Tony said and leaned his gun against Voss' hand.

Then there was commotion – in a smooth move, Voss pressed against him, causing his gun to go off, and she stood up, running away from him, screaming all the while. Two men grabbed Tony, one of them knocking his gun out of his hand. The other landed a blow across his jaw.

He heard McGee scream, "Federal agent! Move!"

But no one listened. Tony tried fighting back against the two burly guys holding onto him, but someone smacked a knee into his stomach and he doubled over. He punched back but they didn't let go and they were pushing him to the ground. He managed to get loose from someone but then something crashed down over his head, hard enough for him to hear the breakage – it must have been a bottle – and he went down, vision blurring and darkening. They took the chance and landed him on the ground, holding him down.

He saw Voss grab his purse and run, and Tony screamed, "Stop him! Stop him!"

Another blow landed on his face, silencing him. He tasted blood.

Suddenly, things fell silent. Tony's face was turned away from the entrance, a heavy hand pressing his face down, but he heard Gibbs' steady voice.

"His name was Special Agent Chris Pacci. And he was a friend."

Two beats, and then—a gunshot rang off. Tony heard a body fall to the ground, and for a second death flashed before his eyes again. Gibbs falling over, blood pooling from a wound in his forehead—

But then he heard Kate's voice. "Federal agents! So are these two! Let them go."

The two burly guys didn't seem completely convinced. They didn't help him up as he stood, and they glared hotly. He glared back but he felt dizzy. His stomach hurt – and the nausea of the she-is-a-he-and-he-murdered-Pacci revelation had not yet loosened its hold on his body.

His head ached, his vision swimming.

He found Gibbs' gaze on him, steady, angry, but safe. The anger wasn't directed at Tony.

With three long strides, Gibbs was suddenly by Tony's side.

"You okay, DiNozzo?" he asked.

"I—uh," Tony said. "He—"

Tony stared at the Voss' dead body. A pool of blood was growing steadily around Voss' head, looking nearly black in the dark pub. People were staring wide-eyed at Voss and at the four agents. Someone began whispering.

Gibbs turned to Kate and McGee. "Kate, get Ducky. McGee, get these people out of here."

They both nodded and a moment later, they started herding people out.

"Boss, I didn't mean to—" Tony said softly.

"Mean to what?" Gibbs asked.

"I didn't think she—he—I thought—" Tony said, and he wondered if this was what McGee always felt, when he was stammering away, unable to form complete, coherent sentences.

He felt Gibbs' hand on his shoulder and he looked up, wide-eyed.

"Sit down, DiNozzo," Gibbs said. "And have Ducky check you out when he gets here."

"I'm fine," Tony said, though he felt far from it.

"Yeah? How many fingers am I holding up?" Gibbs asked.

Tony hesitated a second before answering. His vision was swimming. "Three."

"Let Ducky check you out," Gibbs said. "That's an order. One that you will follow, unlike what you did earlier."

Tony nodded sheepishly and then regretted it when it made a bolt of pain pass through his skull. Gibbs had told him to stay put and not engage Amanda. If he had followed the order, then Tony wouldn't be sitting there, his head pounding and his lips still coated with Voss' lip gloss. He ran his hand over his lips again. He needed a shower to get the grime off.

If he hadn't been blinded by her beauty, then they could have taken her down in her home, without a pub full of onlookers and anyone's health in danger. Perhaps they could have taken Voss alive, so that he could actually rot in jail the way he ought to, instead of taking the easy way out with death.

He felt self-loathing grow like a black seed in his mind.

"I'm sorry, boss," he said. "I shouldn't have—"

"No," Gibbs said. "You shouldn't have. But apologizing won't change anything."

Tony looked at the floor.

"Stay put," Gibbs said. "You don't move until Ducky's cleared you."

Then he walked off and Tony was left sitting amidst a sea self-loathing and a pounding headache. He watched as McGee spoke to the pub keeper and Kate photographed Voss' body. The pool of blood around his head was no longer growing.

Ducky arrived with his assistant in tow. They inspected the body first so that it could be moved and then Ducky headed over to Tony.

"Well, Anthony, in the way of violence again," he said conversationally.

"It wasn't really my fault," Tony said. The fighting itself wasn't – why they'd gotten into the situation was. "They misinterpreted the situation."

"Yes, well, in another situation, they might have been considered gentlemen for helping a woman out," Ducky said. He shone a pen light into Tony's eyes; it was never a particularly fun experience. "Gibbs tells me they hit you over the head?"

"Yeah," Tony said. "A bottle."

He gave a small nod to the shards scattered over the floor.

"I see," Ducky said. He turned Tony's head to the side to look at the bruising Tony could feel was building. "Any dizziness? Nausea?"

Tony shrugged, looking down.

"Anthony?" Ducky probed.

"Yeah, well, a little, but it's pretty much gone now."

Ducky nodded, looking satisfied. "I think you need to go home and get some rest. It would be good if you had someone with you, just in case."

"Ducky, I'm fine," Tony said.

Ducky pursed his lips. "You let me be the judge of that."

Gibbs came over, standing right behind Ducky. "How is he?"

"Thickheaded, in every sense of the word," Ducky said.

"I'll be fine," Tony said wearily. "It was just a bottle."

"And a punch, and a knee, according to McGee," Gibbs said.

"Probie needs glasses," Tony muttered.

He stood up, though he leaned on the table just a little bit so that he wouldn't show Ducky and Gibbs just how woozy he was still feeling.

Ducky gave him a look that said he clearly wasn't fooled. "He should have someone with him at home tonight."

Gibbs nodded. "I'll take him home."

"No—no, boss, that's—I have to go to the office and—there's the report," Tony said. "And really, I'm fine, I don't need—"

Having Gibbs around when Tony was feeling more than a little disgusted with himself? Not if he could help it. Then again, he probably couldn't help it; Gibbs had that look in his eyes that told Tony to shut it and just go along with what they decided for him.

"We are going by the office first," Gibbs said. "And then I'm taking you home."

"I'll take a cab—" Tony started, but then he shut his mouth at Gibbs' stern look.

"Get some ice on that when you get back to the office, then," Ducky said.

"Boss, we've finished," McGee said, coming up to the trio. "Voss' body is in the van, and we've got statements from the bar keeper and a few of the guests."

Gibbs nodded curtly. "You go with Kate in your car."

"Yes, boss," McGee said.

"Well, then," Ducky said, "I'm off too. I'll see you tomorrow, gentlemen."

He trotted off. Tony was left with Gibbs, who looked grim. Without a word, he turned and walked out, obviously expecting Tony to follow. Tony did, albeit slower than usual. When he came outside, he found Gibbs' car parked on the curb, highly illegal, but it didn't matter – it was what had allowed them to be on time to get Voss. Standing by the car, Gibbs watched Tony as he walked, challenging him to say that he was fine when his world was obviously still a bit tilted.

They rode in silence back to the office. Tony leaned back in his seat. Gibbs drove like a maniac as usual, but with a tight grip on the ceiling handle, Tony could follow the car's movements. He still felt nauseous, and when he closed his eyes he saw Voss, smiling at him with that sultry, lazy smile. Bile rose in his throat.

They would all think, of course, that it was because he'd kissed a transvestite. But considering that he had to use both his hands to count the number of guys he'd had sex with, he didn't feel that was it.

He had kissed – and enjoyed kissing – Pacci's murderer. He had kissed the murderer of a friend.

Their footfalls echoed through the garage and they rode the elevator up to the bullpen. Gibbs still didn't say a word.

Abby was already there, leaning against McGee's desk.

"Tony!" she exclaimed upon seeing him. She rushed forward and hugged him. Tony hoped it didn't show on his face just how much more the momentum of Abby's body against his made his head hurt; she was only trying to show concern, in her Abby way. "Ducky wanted me to give you this."

She held out an icepack. Tony took it. "Great," he said with little enthusiasm. "Thanks."

He crushed it and held it against his head. He doubted it would help much – too long had passed since the hit – but it still felt nice and cool. He sat down, sighing into his chair. He would turn on his computer and write his report soon – just as soon as the elephants stopped stomping around in his head.

"I didn't really believe it when I first saw the DNA results," Abby said, returning to McGee. "I mean – he really looked like a woman."

Voss' female face flashed before Tony's eyes. He could still feel her lips against his. He swallowed back bile.

"He certainly had a convincing disguise," McGee said. There was some badly masked glee in his voice as he glanced at Tony.

"That reminds me of 'The Crying Game'," Abby said.

"Don't know it," McGee said.

"It was such a cool flick," Abby said.

"Abby – could you pick some other movie, please?" Tony said, exasperation obvious. God, he wanted to go home. But Gibbs was going through Pacci's things and it would be at least another half hour before he was done, before everything was as pristine as Gibbs wanted it when he presented the things to Pacci's family.

"Oh, um," Abby said, pondering. "'Victor, Victoria'?"

Tony looked at her. He remembered the movie, although he'd only seen it once. "That was a girl, pretending to be a guy, pretending to be a girl."

"Right," Abby said.

"Yeah," Tony said. "That one's okay."

"You've got to hand it to Commander Voss," McGee said, while still working on his computer. "For three years he hid in plain sight as a woman."

Gibbs and Kate came walking over, Gibbs carrying the box containing Pacci's things.

"Well, he wasn't a woman yet," Kate said. "The surgery was scheduled for next month in Bangkok."

Tony wished they would stop talking. Now that Kate had returned, he knew what was coming. He wanted to get out of there, but he knew that leaving would be grounds for even more teasing.

Images of Voss flashed before his eyes, warping from the coy smile he had given Tony, to a mad rage as she sank a knife into Pacci over and over again. Tony squeezed his eyes shut against the images, but it didn't help.

"Getting your plumbing turned outside in is so—" Abby searched for the word.

"Hinky?" McGee suggested.

"No, no," Abby said. "Way beyond hinky. It's—"

Kate turned to Tony and Tony braced himself. Forcing back his nausea and pushing the images of Voss out of his mind best he could, he looked up at Kate.

"Speaking of way beyond hinky, Tony—"

"Okay," Tony said. "All right, give it to me, Kate. I can take it."

She smiled. "What was it like – tonguing a guy?"

It was as though she had completely forgotten, or at least was ignoring, the fact that Voss had killed their colleague. Tony wanted to scream at her, to grab her and shake her, and say that that could have been any of them working that cold case. Any one of them could have left their guns back at the office while tailing Voss – any of them could have been gutted and bled out in an elevator.

He heard Voss' chuckle echo through his mind, turning into crazed laughter. Tony knew that neither Kate nor McGee would have stood a chance against him – and it was entirely possible that he and Gibbs would have fallen prey too, as they would all have been underestimating him. Like Pacci probably had, they would have thought him to be a civilian woman, not a trained Commander in the Navy.

The memories of Voss' lips against his, now remembered hot like hell's fire, crashed upon him in dark waves. He'd kissed a murderer.

He fought to breathe and he looked away from her.

"Forget it," he said, voice rough, as he stood up. "I can't take it."

He stormed away, hearing Kate's laughter after him. How could she laugh?

He passed Pacci's now empty desk as he left and it only served to make bile rise faster in his throat. He would puke soon.

He headed to the bathroom, where he threw open a door to a stall and promptly expelled the meager content of his stomach. He still hadn't eaten since lunch – and it was dark outside now so that must mean it was late – and little to nothing came up after just a little while, leaving him dry heaving instead.

He stood shakily, legs barely holding him up. At least throwing up had meant slowing the images flashing through his brain somewhat as his body worked to heave.

He rinsed his mouth and splashed water on his face, letting cool droplets run down his cheeks. His head still hurt, although the pain was duller now. He looked at himself in the mirror above the sink and he barely recognized the man looking back. He felt empty.

"You knew she'd tease."

Tony startled, head snapping around to look at the source of the sound, one hand automatically going towards his holstered gun.

Gibbs stood in the doorway.

"Boss," Tony said, hand falling limply to his side.

Gibbs took two steps closer, eyes traveling over Tony's body, taking in his ragged appearance. Tony had a feeling he looked like a deer caught in headlights. He hadn't meant for anyone to see him right now, least of all Gibbs.

"I'm fine, boss," he said softly. "I just—I kissed a transvestite, you know. It was awful."

Gibbs gaze was unwavering and Tony found himself fidgeting. He forced himself to stand still.

"Don't believe you," Gibbs said calmly.

Tony laughed nervously. "What else would it be?"

"I don't know," Gibbs said. "You tell me."

"I just did," Tony said. "Like Kate said – I tongued a transvestite."

Gibbs didn't say anything out loud, but his eyes spoke volumes about how much he didn't believe in Tony's words. There were also other things in those blue eyes, things that Tony barely dared to name, for fear of being wrong. He thought he saw compassion and understanding.

"It's just," Tony said, speaking before he could stop himself. "He killed Pacci."

He barely recognized his own voice.

Gibbs gave a small nod. "Yeah. I know."

"Never did kiss a killer before, boss," Tony said. Jokingly, because jokes were what he did, he added, "Not that I know of, at least."

Gibbs frowned at his addition, but then he seemed to let it go, recognizing it for what it was – an attempt at distraction.

"Car's waiting for us," he said.

"You're done? Already?"

"It was just his desk, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

Tony swallowed and ran a hand across his face. "I can just take a cab." Gibbs' stare challenged him and he sighed. "Or I can just go with you."

"Good choice," Gibbs said.

They took the back elevator down to the garage so that they wouldn't have to be seen in the bullpen. Tony really didn't want to face Kate anymore today. He didn't want to see Abby or McGee's gloating smiles either, but mostly, it was Kate. She wouldn't let this go; it would be payback for all the times he'd bothered her about her dates.

They rode in silence, until Gibbs stopped the car somewhere that was nowhere near Tony's home.

"Boss?"

"You hungry?" Gibbs asked.

Tony frowned. "Starving."

"Pizza it is," Gibbs said.

They ordered a pizza each and Tony took all of his favorite toppings, because he felt he deserved that after the day he'd just had. The car smelled deliciously of pizza by the time they stopped again.

"This isn't my place," Tony said, frowning.

"I'm not sleeping on your couch, DiNozzo."

They had parked in the driveway to Gibbs' house. It was dark and not particularly inviting, but Tony had always liked Gibbs' house. Perhaps mostly because it had Gibbs in it. Still, he wished that he would have been in a better mood – one that could have appreciated having pizza and a beer with Gibbs in his house. Right now, he mostly wanted to go to bed and sleep for at least twenty-four hours, to forget what had happened today.

"You gonna sit there all night?" Gibbs asked.

"No, uh, sorry, boss," Tony said. He quickly got out, balancing the pizza in one hand, and followed Gibbs into the house.

Gibbs turned on the lights in the hallway and the kitchen, and grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator for himself. He handed Tony a soda.

"I don't get beer?" Tony asked. He would have liked to get drunk right about now.

"Nope. Doctor's orders."

"Right," Tony said. "Ducky."

Tony began on his pizza, mouth watering as the smells wafted up when he opened the carton. He had eaten a quarter of it before he noticed that Gibbs was looking at him, a piece of pizza hanging lazily in one hand and there was an amused smile on his lips.

"Certainly hungry," he said.

"Haven't eaten since lunch," Tony said. "And it wasn't a big lunch."

Getting food into his system seemed to calm his body and mind a bit. His thoughts slowed in the safety of Gibbs' kitchen, where his boss had his six. By the time he had downed all but the last piece of the pizza, the images of Voss and death had slowed to an almost complete stop.

He leaned back. His head no longer hurt as badly and instead of dizziness, he felt rather drowsy.

"Bed next?" Gibbs asked.

Tony started at the words. He knew Gibbs hadn't said them in that context, but it was still odd to hear Gibbs ask him if he was going to bed.

Gibbs was looking at him calmly. Tony looked at him, and imagined what it would have been like if Gibbs had been the one shot, if Voss had been faster. Tony's body jerked as his mind supplied him with the sound of a gun going off.

He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

Then he forced himself to calm and he looked at Gibbs, heat rising in his cheeks for his behavior. Then he looked away.

He said softly, speaking to the floor, "I keep thinking about what it'd be like if he'd killed one of us instead."

"Can't think like that," Gibbs said. "It's our job, and it can be us at any time."

"I know, I just—" He drew a shuddering breath. "I'm fine. I just need to sleep."

He stood up, placed the pizza carton in the trash and turned to leave. But before he could, he felt a hand on his arm. Gibbs turned him so that they stood face to face, too close for comfort. Tony's heart beat rapidly.

"You're not fine, Tony," Gibbs said, and Tony's eyes were wide at the use of his first name.

"It's like you said," he said softly. "It's the job. I just have to deal with it."

"We can't always expect the worst," Gibbs said. "We'll go crazy, and then what good will we be?"

"Crime fighting in the mental institution," Tony said, chuckling quietly with little humor. He studied the floor.

He gasped when he felt two fingers under his chin, forcing him to look up. Gibbs stood two feet away, far too close for it to be a good, professional distance. But Tony didn't care; he was looking into Gibb's eyes – those clear blue eyes, gentle and kind in a way they hardly ever were.

"Boss?" Tony asked, hating his voice for sounding like a squeak.

"Do you mind kissing men, Tony?" Gibbs asked.

Gibbs might as well have dumped ice on Tony's head; the question was such a shock that Tony instinctively took a step back. He had always been careful about his liaisons with men, for fear of the retribution society served gays and bisexuals.

Yet Gibbs didn't look like he was going to fire Tony, or hang him out in some other way.

Taking a step forward, Gibbs looked – as far as Tony could decipher his façade – like he wanted Tony to say no, he didn't mind.

Tony couldn't get the words out, so he shook his head instead. It was a simple action, but it meant so much more than the minute turn of his head.

Gibbs took another step forward and Tony could feel Gibbs' breath on his lips. His heart hammered away a mile a minute. Voss' face flashed before him, briefly, fleetingly, the way he'd looked when he'd leaned forward to kiss Tony the first time—

Then Gibbs' lips descended upon Tony's and the thoughts of Voss came to a halt. Gibbs lips were warm, but nothing like Voss' soft ones, the stubble raspy and reassuring against Tony's chin. The kiss was chaste and short, and nothing like the one with Voss.

"Stop thinking about him," Gibbs growled, pulling away.

"Sorry," Tony squeaked.

"What have I said about apologizing?" Gibbs asked. He leaned his hands on the wall on either side of Tony's face, making Tony realize just how much he'd backed away earlier.

"I—uh—I just don't know—this," Tony said.

"I would've thought you knew exactly what this was," Gibbs said.

"Yeah, but—" Tony said. "What is it? Some sort of pity-fuck, to get me out of my head?"

Gibbs made an annoyed sound. "I don't do pity-fucks."

"I didn't know you did guys at all," Tony said, feeling somehow reassured that it wasn't pity, at least.

"Didn't know you did either."

"Yeah, well," Tony said, ducking his head. "There are some things you don't know about me. So, what is this?"

His heart was still pounding, having Gibbs so close.

"A kiss, DiNozzo," Gibbs said.

"Nothing more?"

"Do you want it to be more?" Gibbs asked.

Tony wondered if he should be honest or if he wanted to keep his job.

He decided on honesty. "Yes."

He leaned in and kissed Gibbs again. This time, with less shock and more certainty, Tony was able to taste Gibbs, to run his tongue along Gibbs' lips. There was coffee, pizza and beer, and the slight tang of salty sweat. Below all that, the smell and taste of simply Gibbs.

It was enough to intoxicate Tony, who pushed against Gibbs. Their tongues were suddenly involved in a war neither man needed to win and Tony felt Gibbs' hands run down his sides, pulling him close. Tony's movements were a bit more hesitant, but he finally dared to run his hands through Gibbs' hair.

By the time they pulled apart, they were both panting.

Tony chuckled. "I never thought I'd say this, but – you're a good kisser, boss."

Gibbs smiled slightly. "Not half-bad yourself, DiNozzo."

"Tony," Tony corrected. "With this, here, I'm Tony."

Gibbs shook his head.

Then Tony yawned, pretty much ruining any moment they may or may not have been having. He remembered how long ago it was since he had a full night's sleep and it almost made him yawn again. He smiled sheepishly.

"I don't think I'll be up for—uh, you know," he said.

Gibbs nodded. "I brought you here to make sure you get rest and aren't concussed. 'You know' can come later."

"Really?" Tony asked, unused to having a kiss stop at a kiss, and nothing more.

Gibbs nodded.

They left the kitchen and Tony headed towards the guestroom that he'd used on a few earlier occasions. Gibbs grabbed him before he could go into it – and steered him towards the master bedroom instead.

"Easier to keep track of you here," he said with a shrug at Tony's questioning glance.

"That all?" Tony asked, suddenly smiling. "Here, I thought it was because we just smooched in your kitchen."

"Call it 'smooch' again, and you'll be sleeping on the porch."

Tony grinned.

As he undressed, his mind began replaying the events of the past few days, from Pacci's murder to this very moment. Flashes of death passed before him, the imagined demises of his friends, colleagues, and his soon-to-be lover and boss.

His heart calmed as Gibbs came into the bedroom, wearing boxers and nothing else. He decided that he should cherish each day as though it was his last, because even though it was corny, it was also true. On their jobs, they never knew when a terrorist decided to shoot you, or a murderer bombed your car, or you made a mistake that cost the lives of your colleagues.

They got into bed, pulling the covers up tight. Gibbs wrapped his arms around him and Tony closed his eyes, feeling safe.

--

The end

--

_**Author's notes:** I hope you enjoyed. Comments are appreciated._


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